


oh fuck they were roommates

by Antimonicacid



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angry Sex, Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Hair-pulling, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, they have a normal healthy relationship i swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-22 11:30:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22815559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antimonicacid/pseuds/Antimonicacid
Summary: Felix has to stay at Sylvain's apartment for a week, but unfortunately despite being very in love they are terrible roommates. They fix this by having angry sex over dishes. There's no other plot here.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 6
Kudos: 180





	oh fuck they were roommates

**Author's Note:**

> i don't... know why this is a thing i am so sorry. sylvix has a very healthy relationship btw they just fight about chores.

“I’m not saying you have to wash all of them,” Sylvain explains in a tone that doesn’t even try to hide his frustration. “I’m just saying if you’re going to use a plate or pot then just wash it when you’re done. Then it won’t build up into a tower and–“

“How is this a fucking tower?” Felix cuts him off while gesturing to the sink. There’s a handful of used plates in there along with a mug Felix had his morning coffee in. Otherwise, there was very little evidence of a tower of dishes. “I’ll just wash them tonight it’s not a big deal.”

Sylvain rolls his eyes while leaning against his kitchen counter. It’s day three of Felix crashing at his apartment and that means it’s day three of Sylvain wanting to murder him. The situation is temporary Sylvain reminds himself. As soon as the week is up and Felix’s place is done getting repaired from a branch that broke through his roof, Felix can go home, and Sylvain can go back to loving his beautiful, (bitter)sweet boyfriend so very much.

Unfortunately, it was only day three. Even more unfortunately, Sylvain was finding it harder and harder each day to not want to snap his beautiful, perfect boyfriend’s neck.

“What’s with the scoff?” Felix asks while curling his lip. He plops down onto a nearby chair and crosses his arms.

“It’s just funny is all,” Sylvain leaves any humor out of his voice as he turns his back and starts looking for the sponge. “You’ll do them later tonight, but you won’t actually because you’re tired and you hate doing work in the evening.”

Felix sucks his teeth at that but doesn’t deny the accusation. “Fine, then I’ll wash the dishes in the morning.”

“That’s the point!” Sylvain snaps at him while squeezing dish soap onto the sponge. “You can’t just leave this shit overnight it’ll never get done then. So, just wash your dish when you’re finished with it and then it’s not an issue.” He explains this while scrubbing furious circles on a plate.

“Or I could just do them in the morning, and you can hop off my dick,” Felix counters.

“Hey!” Felix says suddenly before standing and stomping towards the sink. “That’s _my_ dish. You can’t wash it.” Felix snatches the soapy plate from Sylvain’s hand.

“Actually, they’re all _my_ dishes because it’s _my_ house,” Sylvain tries to grab at him, but Felix moves swiftly out of the way.

“I said I’ll wash them. You can’t do my work, it’s _mine_ ,” Felix defends his claim on his chores.

Sylvain huffs out from his nose and goes back to washing the remaining dishes not yet claimed by Felix. “They’re not sitting overnight in the sink, so I’ll just do it now, okay? You can go back to whatever the hell you’re working on.”

He’s referring to the thick packet of papers Felix has sprawled all across the kitchen table. The bulk of Felix’s work ends up being done at home. There were small bundles of papers littering every surface for a day before Sylvain had _helpfully_ shoved them all into a box and dropped it on Felix’s side of their now shared bed.

“Fine then. I’ll just wash it now,” Felix says absolutely exasperated. He steps towards the sink and tries to lightly hip check Sylvain away, but Sylvain refuses to budge. “Come on. Stop being childish and give me the sponge.”

Sylvain grimaces as he continues finishing up the small collection of dirty plates. “It’s fine, okay? I’m already mostly done–“

Felix snatches at the soapy sponge. He’s always too quick for Sylvain and easily takes it from his grasp. “So, you’re going to act like a brat this entire time and then as soon as I say I’ll do it then I can’t?” Disgust drips from Felix’s tongue as he shoulders his way past Sylvain. He literally slides his smaller frame in the two inch gap between Sylvain and the sink.

“I said I’ll do it,” Sylvain says while trying to grab the sponge back. “You don’t even wash them right,” he complains as Felix squirms and dodges Sylvain trying to steal back his soapy prize.

Felix shoves back against him, so he can twist himself around and scowl directly in Sylvain’s face. “How do I do dishes wrong? They’re _dishes_ it’s the easiest thing in the world?”

Sylvain laughs in the meanest tone he can manage. “If they’re so easy then why can’t you just do them without me having to drag you out here by your ankles?” He tries to reach for the sponge once again, leaning his body into his as Felix deftly avoids his reach.

“You’re overreacting,” Felix snarls at him. “Is it that real?” Felix asks him. “Come on, Sylvain, is it that real?”

“It’s my house, it’s my rules,” his voice booms with an authoritative tenor. “If you don’t like it then you can stay at Ingrid’s for all I care.”

If there’s one thing Felix doesn’t enjoy, it’s being bossed around. His entire face flushes red, his frame shaking slightly as he glares absolute daggers at Sylvain. “Fine,” Felix practically spits. “Whatever you say, father dearest,” he mocks him. And then, presumably because Felix has no sense of self preservation, he decides to flick the sponge directly in Sylvain’s face.

Sylvain stands there in shock for a second, the sponge plopping off his face and onto his feet instead, while Felix glowers all too pleased with himself. Sylvain wipes the dirty soap water off his face with his shirt, incapable of processing anything until his face is no longer sticky and disgusting, before he feels hot fury spread across his body with the speed of a firecracker.

“ _Felix,_ ” Sylvain says through clenched teeth. He leans in close enough that he can feel Felix’s breath against his skin. He can practically feel his frantic, angry heartbeat against his chest. “I swear to fucking God that–“

He doesn’t have an end to that statement. Partially because he hadn’t thought of an actual threat. Mostly because he realizes that he can feel Felix’s erect dick pushing against Sylvain’s thigh.

Felix’s face flushes red in the silence of Sylvain’s lecture fizzling out. “Shut the fuck up,” Felix says to the quiet.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Sylvain says as a confusing exasperation falls over him like a sudsy mist. It’s almost definitely not a joke and Sylvain, on instinct, pushes between his legs, just to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. He’s not, and Felix closes his eyes while he pulls Sylvain closer and rubs himself against his thigh. “You gotta be fucking with me,” Sylvain mumbles, entranced by the sight of Felix fucking himself on his leg.

“I said shut up,” Felix snaps at him before grabbing Sylvain by the collar and pulling him down so he can aggressively kiss him.

Sylvain follows more than willingly, matching his passion with the same combative sloppiness as he pushes his body completely against Felix’s. His hands grip his waist possessively. With a rough twist of his wrist he maneuvers it so he can push his thigh between his legs more easily, making it so Felix is half straddling it as he grinds greedily against him.

They kiss with a hunger. They kiss with an anger. Rougher and imposing as they suck and explore and bite and lick into each other’s mouths. Their teeth clank together a few too many times. Someone’s lip is nibbled on slightly too hard and leaves a copper taste on their tongues. Their ferocity doesn’t ease up, however, the desperation for touch only grows. Felix tangles both his hands in his hair, pulling at the shorter ones near the nape of his neck, and making Sylvain gasp at the sharp sensation before his breath melts into a moan. 

Sylvain, who is more than happy to just roll with it, still can’t help but feel a bit grossed out by the fact that there is probably now dish soap in his hair as well.

“Fuck,” Sylvain pants out as he catches his breath.

Felix looks at him confused and irritated at the sudden break. His hair is already starting to become frazzled at the edges of his ponytail. His lips red like crushed berries, glistening against his flushed skin. Sylvain feels his pulse thunder in his ears at the sight. He digs his fingers in even tighter on his hips and feels dizzy when Felix chokes down a moan in response. A restrained gasp and shiver that Sylvain can feel flow through him too.

“ _Fuck,_ ” Sylvain says, already wrecked beyond repair from their uncontrollable desire.

This isn’t the place for this. He doesn’t want to fuck Felix against a backdrop of dirty dishes so, he lifts Felix up with ease and feels grateful when his beautiful, stubborn boyfriend wraps his long, slender limbs around him. Felix holds on to him and without a pause he starts sucking at Sylvain’s vulnerable neck. Purposeful and mean. He digs his teeth in a way he knows Sylvain likes, but also in a way he knows will bruise. Sylvain inhales sharply but tries not to get distracted as he looks for a place to fuck his boyfriend that is not on the dirty sink.

He glances at said unwanted sink and feels irritation flood back into his veins to mingle with his overall horniness. Was it so hard to wash some dishes? Is it really that difficult? Really?

Felix bites at his earlobe before licking upwards and breathing out a small, purposeful groan.

They are not going to make it to the bedroom.

Sylvain pushes away the mess of papers off the kitchen table, and Felix yells in complaint about his hard work. Sylvain ignores the string of insults now rolling out of Felix’s too pretty mouth as he deposits him onto the partially cleared table.

He grabs onto Felix’s thigh as Felix wraps his legs securely around Sylvain’s waist. Felix lays with his back on the table and his eyes closed as he lets Sylvain grind into him. His fingers curl uselessly against the wooden tabletop. His chest rises and falls in a stubborn rhythm as he refrains from moaning out loud. Sylvain thrusts his hips harder. Enough so that Felix can feel how hard and wanting Sylvain is, just like him. Enough so that Felix can imagine him fucking him here and now. So, he can imagine Sylvain rough and needy. So, Felix can imagine himself pliant and desperate for more.

Felix squeezes his eyes shut. Half a curse escapes him before he bites down hard on his own lip. One of his hands reaches out to hold onto Sylvain’s shoulder, making Felix’s back arch up from the table as he purposefully meets the rhythm Sylvain’s setting. His other arm Felix drapes over the bottom half of his face. He turns his head to look away, strands of black hair falling loose into his closed eyes, as he clenches his fist hard enough it shakes. Sylvain can hear his muffled gasps as Felix covers his mouth in the crook of his elbow. He can hear the way his moans are snuffed out in the back of his throat.

Sylvain adjusts his grip so he can support Felix’s weight with one steady hand cupping his ass. He wraps his fingers around Felix’s wrist and pulls his arm back and pins it to the table.

“Syl–“ Felix cuts himself off with a deep breath. He twists his arm slightly, testing his hold, and knowing that if he wanted to break out from Sylvain’s grasp that he could. The hand that’s not pinned snakes its way up Sylvain’s arm, stroking his bicep appreciatively, before digging his nails in as he holds his breath.

“What?” Sylvain asks in a murmur. He leans down to kiss at Felix’s exposed neck. When Felix squirms, he holds him tighter. When Felix swallows another gasp down, Sylvain bites.

“Fuck!” Felix reacts like a jolt of lightning struck him. His grip on Sylvain’s arm is bordering on painful, but Sylvain doesn’t mind as he sucks an angry red bruise at the base of his neck. Felix pants underneath him. His eyes are still closed as he nibbles on his lip. “Fuck, _Sylvain_ ,” Felix says his name as if it was the end of a prayer.

Sylvain groans into the crook of his neck and wonders if he’s going to come right here. On his kitchen table and still fully clothed from the sound of his own name. He thinks it’s a possibility he wouldn’t mind.

Felix relaxes his grip on Sylvain’s arm and trails his fingers delicately along his arm, chest, and neck until he’s eventually cupping Sylvain’s cheek. He rubs his thumb with a gentle touch against Sylvain’s skin. When it grazes the edge of Sylvain’s mouth, Sylvain turns his head so he can wrap his lips around it. Felix hums approvingly and presses the pad of his thumb against Sylvain’s tongue, forcing his mouth open slightly as Sylvain eagerly complies. He removes his finger and smears it across Sylvain’s bottom lip, and Sylvain follows it. Kissing his knuckles and opening his mouth to suck on his delicately crafted fingers.

Felix cracks one eye open to look at him, and when he does a small grin breaks across his face. “You know,” Felix says. “There’s probably dish soap on my hands.”

Sylvain bites his index and middle finger _hard._

“Ow!” Felix yelps and tries to kick him unsuccessfully. “Overreaction!” he chastises him.

“I hate you so fucking much,” Sylvain complains as he shoves Felix’s shirt up to expose his torso. Felix sits up on the table and quickly tears the shirt off before he throws it onto the kitchen floor.

Sylvain glances confused at the discarded garment. “Is that my shirt?” Sylvain asks.

“…no,” Felix lies obviously. “Maybe?” He concedes while scrunching his nose up. Felix is a shit liar after all, and he flops down onto his back to yell at the ceiling. “Your washing machine is dumb and confusing!”

Sylvain groans. “Have you always been this stupid?” he asks a little too earnestly.

He doesn’t wait for an answer. Instead, Sylvain scoops both of Felix’s wrists up in one palm and pins them above his head. Felix defiantly fidgets, but closes his eyes in pleasure, nonetheless. With his arms secured, Sylvain doesn’t so much as kiss, but sucks and bites his way down Felix’s neck, along his collarbone, and across his chest. He runs his hand up along his stomach, watching how Felix twists under him quickly becoming overwhelmed by the touch, until Sylvain trails his fingers over his chest.

He pinches and rubs at his nipple, successfully pulling a whimper from Felix’s throat, as he leans down to mouth at him. With a slow, purposeful movement he laps at Felix’s nipple, obsessed with the way he can feel Felix’s moans vibrate in his chest, before sucking at it with a deep groan of his own.

“A-ah,” Felix cries out as he writhes on the tabletop. Sylvain holds him still, one hand securing his arms, and the other going to grip his waist and pin it down. As he circles his tongue around his nipple, Felix bucks his hips wildly, any pretense of restraint absolutely gone as he continues to cry out tiny whimpers of pleasure.

Sylvain nips him with his teeth and Felix inhales sharply. He kisses the abused nub and licks at it almost in apology. In a low voice Sylvain mumbles in between kisses and quick swipes of his tongue. Two words. Easy and simple. _Stay still._

Felix throws his head back at the instruction, fully showing the length of his pale neck now littered with tiny purple bite marks. He groans deep from within his chest and squirms, but it’s an improvement from his out of control movements from before.

“You’re so annoying,” Felix says in the same tone of voice he uses when they bicker about tv.

Sylvain rolls his eyes even though Felix can’t see the dismissive gesture. He busies himself with playfully running his tongue around the perimeter of his nipple. “You’re trying to piss me off,” Sylvain argues at him.

“No, I’m not,” the perplexity in his voice is clear even with his ragged breath. Felix uses his leg wrapped around Sylvain’s waist to push him closer to him, once again trying to grind his dick against him, but Sylvain holds him still.

“Yes, you are,” Sylvain says bitterly as he lets go on Felix’s wrists so he can start trailing kissing down his torso. “You’re trying to fuck with me about dishes and laundry and–“ In an instant Felix his fingers once again tangled in Sylvain’s hair, pulling hard enough that Sylvain cuts himself off with a long drawn out _fuuuuuuck_.

Felix, who is bored of talking, tries to push Sylvain’s head down closer to his groin. Sylvain rests his weight on his arm and halfway complies with Felix’s brattiness while he tries to angle himself properly to lick at the dip next to his hipbone.

“I’m, ah, not trying– _come on_ ,” Felix pants while pulling at Sylvain’s hair. “Trying to fuck– _ah, fuck!_ Not trying to fuck with you! I _, ah, swear to God I’m going to–_ “

Sylvain doesn’t doubt that Felix has a threat he’s fully prepared to act on if he keeps teasing him. He pulls at Felix’s jeans, undoing the zipper and yanking them down partially, but not bothering to let him fully remove his clothes.

“Are these my boxers?” Sylvain asks absolutely rattled.

“No?” Felix says genuinely.

“You don’t wear boxers,” Sylvain argues while Felix stares at him like he’s dirt. He tugs at the waistband and lets it snap against Felix’s skin.

“How do you know what’s mine?” Felix demands. “I’m pretty sure I know what my own underwear looks like.”

“Okay but do you because apparently laundry is an issue for you.”

“It’s just a _shirt!_ You’re probably about to put my dick in your mouth, I feel like we can excuse the intimacy of a shared shirt.”

Sylvain scoffs and starts rubbing at Felix’s groin in an absent-minded manner. Felix thrusts into his hand while Sylvain massages him through potentially stolen boxers. He starts to mouth at his clothed dick, following the length with his tongue and wanting more. He can feel Felix’s thighs twitching and Sylvain breaths out through his nose in adoration. Quickly, the boxers were becoming soaked through as Sylvain tried to soak in every twitch and plea from Felix. He tugs the waistband down enough that he can actually grip Felix as he runs his tongue along him as if Felix’s dick was the most fragile thing in the world. He’s tempted to stay there. To tease and lick and taunt and taste while Felix rapidly becomes more and more undone.

But, there were pressing matters at hand here, and Sylvain removes his mouth to continue his argument. “A shirt and some fucking underwear. That’s weird, Felix.”

“It’s my _– ah, that’s not fair you’re cheating_ –“ he complains when Sylvain interrupts him by mouthing along the base of his dick. Sue him, he likes to have fun too. “It’s my underwear!” Felix doubles down.

“No, it’s not!” Sylvain interjects before dipping his head back down much to Felix’s confused mixture of pleasure and pure anger.

“They’re mine– _Oh_ , _shit, that feels good._ You’re such a dipshit– _a-ah Sylvain_.”

Sylvain pops his mouth off the head of his dick. “Just say they’re mine,” he tells him.

Felix glares at him in the way where he had already decided that he will fully die before doing something he doesn’t want to. “Absolutely not they’re– _FUCK! A-ah, ah…Sylvain, please Sylvain, Sylvain Sylvain–_ “ He cries out incoherently as he starts to roll his hips gently on beat with Sylvain’s bobbing head. He holds on tight to the back of his head, using it as leverage to jerk shallow thrusts into Sylvain’s open mouth. He takes it willingly even knowing that he’ll throat will ache for the rest of the night and probably tomorrow too.

Felix twists his wrist to tug his hair again, making his own breath hitch when Sylvain moans around his dick with reverence. With his eyes closed and one hand finally stroking himself, he tries to focus on the sound of his name. The way it breaks off Felix’s tongue so it sounds like worship. The unraveling of his stubborn silence to unabashed pleas.

“They’re still mine!” Felix throws in with every intention to still win this argument.

“Actually, they’re mine,” a voice from behind that belongs to neither startles the two of them. In less than half a second Sylvain scrambles backwards with a small trail of spit falling on his chin messy and gross. Meanwhile, Felix enters fight or flight mode and when he tries to sit up too fast to make a break for it, ends up rolling off the table in an embarrassed heap. 

Sylvain doesn’t bother to check on his boyfriend’s fallen body. Instead he stands up properly, wipes his mouth, and straightens his collar. “Hey, Dimitri,” he says casually. “How’s it going?”

Dimitri stands at the entrance of the kitchen unimpressed. He’s wearing his afterwork clothes, sweatpants and Disney World t-shirt, which in general means it’s Dimitri’s Rest and Chill Time.

“Those are mine,” Dimitri reiterates. “Please wash them before returning them to me,” Dimitri ignores Sylvain and addresses Felix who is now sitting cross legged on the floor with his pants fully on.

“I’m pretty sure these are mine,” Felix argues on instinct even as Sylvain shakes his head furiously to try and dissuade him.

“They’re not,” Dimitri shuts him down easily while walking past him. He peers into the fridge for a minute before turning to Sylvain and asking, “I thought you were going to buy milk?”

Sylvain shrugs. “I’m trying to drink less dairy. There’s some almond milk in there. You know dairy’s killing the planet, right?”

Dimitri sighs. “Yes, I know.” He ignores the almond milk and settles for grabbing a small carton of yogurt.

“Hey,” Sylvain complains. “That’s mine.”

“And your boyfriend is wearing my boxers,” Dimitri states as he grabs a spoon and walks out of the kitchen.

“I am not,” Felix sounds far too childlike on the ground while pouting.

“I don’t care. Actually, please, just keep them,” Dimitri shakes his head exhausted. “Sylvain?”

Sylvain straightens his back and smiles awkwardly. “Yeah?”

“There is a minimal amount of common curtesy in regard to shared spaces,” Dimitri lectures him. “Please try to not fuck your boyfriend in the places I eat.”

And on that note Dimitri retreats back to his room with his yogurt. Which was actually Sylvain’s, for the record.

Sylvain rubs his temples and groans. “Hey Felix?”

“Yeah?” Felix asks from the floor. He’s not sitting up anymore. The weight of shame is too much and instead Felix has elected to lay underneath the kitchen table and stay very still.

“I love you so fucking much,” Sylvain says earnestly.

“I know,” Felix says back.

Sylvain crouches down next to Felix’s corpse and grabs his hand. “I love you so much, okay?” he repeats himself for good measure. “But also, if you’re not out of my house by the end of the week I am going to actually kill you,” Sylvain pulls Felix’s hand up to his mouth and kisses his knuckles, “and then I’m going to kill me and then I’m going to kill Dimitri for good measure too.”

 _“FUCK YOU, SYLVAIN!”_ Dimitri’s muffled yell pierces through Sylvain’s romantic confession.

“YOU’RE NOT ALLOWED TO SAY FUCK, DIMITRI!” Sylvain yells back. “IT’S WEIRD!”

Felix sits up and joins in with him. “YEAH! FUCK YOU, DIMITRI!”

They can hear the sound of Dimitri turning up the volume on his NPR podcast.

“What a bitch,” Felix complains.

“Absolutely,” Sylvain agrees while helping him off the floor. 

**Author's Note:**

> i am so so so sorry. i dont think dimitri says the fuck word in canon btw  
> My twitter can be found [here](https://twitter.com/biheretic)


End file.
